Gives You Wings
by Rynismedolmae
Summary: Rodney doesn't seem to like them, but John thinks the wings are the most beautiful things he's ever seen.


Rodney was sulking, but that was nothing new. John rolled his eyes and grabbed Rodney by the arm, dragging him closer.

"Sheppard," Rodney said with a sigh, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

"You act like you don't like this, but you totally like it," John said, smirking as he ran his fingers through Rodney's feathers.

The wings were beautiful. John had never seen anything like them. The wings themselves were huge. If Rodney stretched them out, he'd be able to touch the walls with the tips of his wings even standing in the middle of the gateroom. The feathers were white and fluffy and so soft John had a hard time leaving them alone. He was drawn to them.

"Are you done yet, Colonel?" Rodney asked, his sandwich half eaten and sitting on his plate, which was unheard of.

Everyone in the commissary was looking at them, but John didn't care. Nobody else appreciated Rodney's wings, but John did, and he loved helping Rodney comb the pearlescent feathers out, whether Rodney asked or not. And Rodney never asked.

"Almost. You've got a few more that are stuck here," John said, running his fingers over the feathers closest to Rodney's back. He smoothed the feathers out, then nodded. "Okay, I'm done."

"Now I can finish my lunch?" Rodney asked, that irritated tone to his voice that never really did bother John.

"Yes," John said, wiping his hands off on his pants before picking up his own sandwich.

Teyla and Ronon were sitting across from them, Ronon staring at them with an odd expression on his face. Teyla, as usual, wasn't bothered at all by the impromptu wing grooming.

"I know you're not going to thank me," John said, nudging Rodney with his elbow, "but I know they feel better, and we need you in good shape on missions."

"I keep them packed away when I'm on missions," Rodney said, tucking his wings against his back, the feathers tickling John's neck as they brushed by.

"Yeah, but they feel better, right?" John asked, turning to Rodney with a mouthful of food.

Rodney paused for a moment, and John could see the wheels turning in that big giant brain of his. He finally nodded. "Yes. Yes, it does feel better."

"Good," John said, taking another bite of his sandwich while everyone else in the commissary took that as a cue to start eating again too.

"When do we head out?" Rodney asked.

John checked his watch needlessly. "Five hours. It shouldn't be a big deal. The drones showed a few small areas of population, but not a lot of technology."

Rodney grunted. "Those are the ones we always get screwed on."

Ronon chuckled as he pushed his tray forward. "You're still upset over the dress you had to wear for the last one."

Teyla covered her mouth with her hand to hide a smile. She was done with her lunch, but was politely staying until everyone else was finished.

Rodney scowled at Ronon. "It wasn't the dress that upset me. It was the...," he said, glancing at John.

"What?" John asked.

"My wings," Rodney blurted. "They were a mess that day."

Teyla and Ronon nodded, and John felt that odd niggling in the back of his head that they were patronizing Rodney. Everybody did to some extent, but not like this. It was strange, and it had been that way ever since they came back from the mission Rodney would never let them forget. The dreaded Dress Planet.

"Yeah, but I sat with you for hours cleaning and straightening them up," John said, smiling at Rodney. "They were beautiful by the time I was done."

Rodney nodded. "Yes, they were, Colonel."

"You take very good care of him," Teyla said, bowing her head to John.

* * *

The next mission didn't go well. Rodney had been right. John was tied to a post outside the camp while Teyla and Ronon were locked in a cage a few feet away. Rodney had mouthed off at the tribe leader, so he'd been bound and gagged, then dumped next to the cages.

"Just use your wings," John said, twisting his wrists this way and that, trying to loosen the ropes.

Rodney scowled at him. His face was dirty, and with the cloth covering his mouth, his eyes had to do all the work his mouth usually did. He scowled harder just because.

"Just wiggle them free, then fly over here, and we'll untie each other," John said.

Rodney let out a howl of frustration as he flopped back. John winced, wondering if Rodney had squashed his wings flopping back like that, but Rodney just rolled his way over to Ronon's cage.

"Are you embarrassed?" John asked as he watched his teammates struggle to untie each other's ropes, Rodney squishing himself against the bars of Ronon's cage.

Rodney looked up at him, but didn't stop struggling against the bars. "Hmm?"

"The wings. Are you embarrassed? Is that why you don't want to let them out right now?" John asked, wondering how anyone could be embarrassed over such an amazing privilege.

Rodney pulled the most epic eye roll ever. John wasn't sure what Rodney said behind the gag, but he figured there were a few choice words in there. It seemed to take forever, but forty-five minutes later they were heading back to the Stargate.

"They're gorgeous," John said, hip-checking Rodney as they walked.

"Just drop it," Rodney said, looking ahead.

"I don't know why you won't use them," John said, shaking his head. "You haven't even tried flying yet."

"Rodney is not embarrassed," Teyla said, slowing down to walk beside John. "He hasn't practiced enough with them yet, and what you asked him to do isn't possible. Not without practice."

"Oh," John said, suddenly feeling bad for having pushed it. He didn't want Rodney to have any reason for hiding his wings, and if pushing him to use them made it awkward, John needed to back off. "Sorry, Rodney."

Rodney gave him a tight smile. "It's okay."

* * *

John pulled himself up onto the gurney and sighed. "I don't know why you're making me do this every morning."

Carson blinded him with the penlight for a moment. "Because you hit your head."

The nurse attached sensors to his neck, forehead, and temples. They always itched, but John tolerated them because Carson felt it was necessary, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"But that was almost two weeks ago," John said. "I've hit my head plenty of times and you only insisted on check-ups for a few days."

"I'm the doctor," Carson said, crossing his arms over his chest.

John held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not arguing with you. And if you want me to come in here every morning until we head back home, that's what I'll do."

Carson nodded. "Good," he said as he began running through all the post-concussion tests he'd done on John every morning for two weeks straight.

* * *

"Rodney."

"John."

John glared at him across the room. "Rodney," he said with even more attitude.

Rodney blinked at him. "John."

"Okay, this is ridiculous," John said, getting up from the bench that had seen better days and stomping through the dirt to the middle of the jail cell they had been stuck in for about three hours. "You can reach!"

Rodney leaned back against the dingy brick wall. "No."

John turned to Teyla, who was curled up at the other end of the cot Rodney was sitting on. "A little help?"

Teyla shook her head. "He does not want to use them. We must respect his wishes."

John turned to Ronon, who was pacing by the bars. "How about you? You gonna help?"

Ronon stopped, his shoulders tense as he looked across the dimly-lit prison at the keys on the desk. They were too far away to reach unless someone had wings. And one of them did.

"I know he doesn't want to use them," John said, walking up to Ronon. Ronon didn't turn, so he continued speaking to the man's back. "But this is stupid. The keys are right there. We could get out of here before they come back to, I don't know, eat us for dinner or whatever they've got planned for us."

Ronon turned around slowly, then shared a look with Teyla. A silent conversation between the two of them that went right over John's head. That was happening a lot lately.

Teyla turned to Rodney. "We must tell him."

"That's what I've been telling you people!" Rodney yelled. He sat up straighter and looked to the door in case their captors came running in to see what the yelling was all about. When nothing happened, Rodney looked up at John. "I don't have wings."

John frowned. "Of course you do," he said, gesturing to the feathers he could see over Rodney's shoulders.

Rodney shook his head. "No. I don't. You hit your head back on that planet, and you've been seeing wings for almost three weeks now, but I don't have any wings."

John snorted. "Very funny. I know you don't want to use them, but that's a terrible argument. I can see them!"

"We don't," Ronon said.

"Huh?" John asked, turning to Ronon.

"We can't see any wings," Ronon said, shrugging. "Never have."

John looked to Teyla, sure that she would be the voice of reason, but she just shook her head.

"So I'm hallucinating?" John asked.

"Post-concussive syndrome," Rodney said. "That's what Carson called it."

John shook his head. "No. It's got to be something else. I can feel them. I tasted one when you turned in the hallway the other day and I got a face full of feathers."

Rodney frowned. "What do they taste like?"

John thought about it for a moment before sighing as he leaned against the bars. "They're real."

"No, they're not," Rodney said.

"Yes, they are," John said, raising his voice. "Just because the rest of you can't see them doesn't mean they're not there."

"That doesn't make any sense," Ronon said.

"It does when there's ancient tech involved," John said, waving his arms about. "Did none of you see the big ball of light surround Rodney when that room shook?"

Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon shared a look, then turned back to John. "Nope," Rodney said.

"That room responded to me just like Atlantis does," John said. "I thought you guys saw it. I fell when the panels shifted, but I know what I saw. It gave you wings."

"This is absurd," Rodney said, climbing off the cot. "I don't have wings. You hit your head and you've been hallucinating ever since."

"You want me to prove it?" John asked.

Rodney opened his mouth, ready to argue more, but then shrugged. "Okay, prove it."

John walked up to Rodney and plucked a feather from his left wing.

"Ouch!" Rodney cried out, pulling away and looking at John like he'd shot him in the arm instead of just plucking a feather.

"This is one of your feathers," John said, holding up said feather. Even if they couldn't see it, they had to realize he was holding something.

"How did you do that?" Rodney asked, trying to reach behind himself to check for damage, but Teyla was already up and lifting Rodney's shirt, checking for herself.

"I do not see a wound," Teyla said.

"No, not there," Rodney said. "It hurts right here!" All of them watched as Rodney pointed to a spot somewhere over his left shoulder.

"You're pointing at your wing," John said.

Rodney blinked at him, lip curling as he tried to figure out what was going on. He moved his shoulders experimentally, paused, then moved his shoulders again. "I-I think I can feel them."

"Did you hit your head too?" Ronon asked, one eyebrow arching upward.

"Think about reaching out to me," John said. "Don't do it with your arms, but just think about nudging me. You do it all the time with your wings."

Rodney huffed out a laugh, but he gave John a quick nod before concentrating for a moment. His left wing slowly reached out, and the tip touched the top of John's head, ruffling his hair.

"No way that just happened," Rodney whispered, eyes wide.

"You have wings," John said, because he needed to say it out loud again.

Rodney shifted his shoulders, and John smiled as an expression of pure wonder and excitement came over his teammate's face. Rodney practically ran to the bars and wrapped his hands around them.

"Watch them and tell me if I'm getting it right," Rodney said as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the bars.

John chuckled. "I know you can do it. You'll get it."

Rodney's left wing slowly spread out, but before John could warn him, Rodney slammed it into the bars. "Ouch!" Rodney yelped, looking over his shoulder.

"Tilt it and go between the bars," John said.

"Yeah, I got that," Rodney grumbled as he pressed his forehead to the bars again.

The left wing moved a little slower, and instead of slamming into the bars, the wing tipped a little and started to slide between the bars, the soft feathers brushing over the steel bars.

"Go slow. Your wings are huge," John reminded him. "Once they get to the middle of your back, they're about twice the thickness of your arm, so it won't fit through, but it's long enough that you can make it if you stretch."

"This feels so weird," Rodney said. "It's almost like I can sense it, but not feel it. I can't even explain it."

"You got it," John said as the wing stretched beyond the bars and out into the main room. "A little more to your right."

Rodney's wing kept stretching until it knocked a stack of papers from the desk, and Rodney flinched, his head jerking up as he blinked wide-eyed at the mess on the floor.

"I did that!" he said, letting out a breath before concentrating once again. The feathers brushed over the desk, then moved the keys, pushing them onto the floor. "Ha! Would you look at that!" he crowed.

"Keep your voice down," Ronon hissed. "The guards aren't very far away."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Rodney said, shaking his head. He glared at the keys, brow furrowing as he moved the wing, cupping the keys and dragging them closer.

He pulled and pulled until finally the keys were within reach, and Ronon crouched down, grabbing the keys before he used them on the lock as Rodney carefully pulled his wing back and turned to John, a giant smile on his face, eyes alight with excitement.

"I did that!" he said, grabbing John's vest and yanking him closer. "I have wings!"

"Yeah, I know," John said with a nod, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. "You've had them for three weeks now."

"I didn't believe you," Rodney said. "It was so ridiculous. I thought maybe you really damaged your brain. Everybody told me to just go along with it and let you groom my wings, but I thought for sure you were dying."

John chuckled. "Not yet, I'm not," he said.

"I have wings!" Rodney scream-whispered in John's face.

John couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "Yeah, you do. And they're amazing. I wish you guys could see them."

"Let's figure out how to see them once we get home," Ronon said, opening the door and holding it for them.

"I have wings," Rodney said as he pushed Ronon out of the way, his wings shivering and catching the light as he passed the man.

"He's going to be even harder to deal with now," Ronon said with a sigh.

"I heard that, and I don't care," Rodney said as he grabbed their weapons from the desk and tossed Teyla her staff, "because I have wings."


End file.
